


Freight Train

by Wickedrider98



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, I have no idea where this came from tbh, Other, The Usher Foundation, i was doing research and my brain went "make spooky? Make spooky!" And this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wickedrider98/pseuds/Wickedrider98
Summary: statement of Matthew Rogers, regarding an encounter with a strange horse in Southern Illinois. Original Statement given March 20, 1959.





	Freight Train

**Author's Note:**

> So before you bombard me with 'Syd what the fuck!?' Let me start by saying no I have no idea where this came from. Anyways this is sort of based in fact, there have been many instances of horses eating meat documented throughout history (one of the more recent ones including a BBC filmed video of horses going after baby birds), and Freight Train is one of them, he lived in the 1950s and though he never actually *ate* anyone, he was known to go after humans, as well as kill and eat birds. Other accounts here: http://thehorseaholic.com/the-forgotten-story-of-meat-eating-horses/

Do you know the story of the Mares of Diomedes? In Greek Mythology it was part of the Twelve Labors of Heracles that he capture the four wild, man-eating Mares and bring them to King Eurystheus. He broke the horses free, and in some versions of the story, fed them the body of their master to calm them. I always thought of the idea of man-eating horses to be an outlandish myth, but knowing what I know now… I work as a land appraiser, with a specialization in rural properties. So it wasn't uncommon for me to be called out to the back parts of my home state to determine the value of land. And this was no exception. Based on the acreage I figured it would be about a week long job, so I chose to book a hotel in in the small town nearby, New Minden I think it was called. The woman at the desk wasn't helpful with trying to find something interesting to do in a land of corn and soybean fields, so I decided to go on a walk. I'm not sure how long I walked for, or even in what direction, all I know is that I came by a small farm that, were it not for the truck parked in the front of it I would have assumed it was abandoned. The barn looked like it was one good gust of wind away from falling over, with its rotten brown boards slumping off it, and the house, well, it didn't look fit to be inhabited by rats let alone people. But it was the pasture outside the dilapidated barn where I first met the horse. For all the room he had to run and graze, when I first laid eyes on him the coal-colored stallion just...stood there. He was larger than any horse I'd ever seen, I'm 6’0 and he was at least a head taller than me at the wither, and built like a tank. He was watching me intently, as though he was daring me to come closer. Or perhaps willing me to, since I was walking towards the 4-board fence before I was fully aware of what I was doing. It wasn't until I felt a large hand clamp down on my shoulder that I snapped out of my trance. I turned to see a man towering over me. He introduced himself as ‘Jim’, and warned me to keep my distance from the pasture. When I asked why he simply responded ‘Freight Train doesn't take kindly to newcomers’, and sent me on my way. I found my way back to the hotel soon after, but that wasn't the last time I saw Freight Train before… the incident. I had to make my way past that pasture almost everyday during my stay, and it was always the same. Freight Train, standing like a statue, watching. Waiting. The only time I ever saw the massive horse move was the day a crow landed on the top board of the pine fencing. The bird simply sat there, unassuming, preening his thick black feathers. But Freight Train didn't appear to like that. His eyes locked on the doomed and in an instant he was bearing down on the creature. The crow took to the skies, trying to get away, but it was too late. Freight Train gripped its tail feathers, dragging it to the ground, and with a flash of his massive hooves, it was dead. The horse wasn't content with that though, no. He grabbed the corpse by the neck, trotting away with his prize. I should've left then, should've just continued on to get to my work and left as soon as I finished that day. But I didn't. I stood there, frozen, watching as the horse trotted to a figure at the other end of the paddock that I could only assume was Jim. Freight Train dropped the bird at his his feet, like a hunting dog returns his master's catch. Jim nodded, and the stallion immediately began ripping its ebony feathers away, exposing the flesh beneath. I didn't stay to see what happened after. Just hurried away before horse or man could notice me. If I'd have known then what I knew now, I would've left New Minden before I learned the full extent of the horse's appetite. I went a few days without seeing Freight Train after that. Don't know why I didn't find it strange, I guess I just assumed he'd decided to take up residence in the rickety barn. It wasn't until my last day that I saw the horse again, stood in his paddock grazing with Jim brushing his coat. He waved to me as I walked by. Not forgetting the fate of that poor crow, I stayed on the opposite side of the dirt road, just to be safe. I told him that Freight Train was a magnificent looking horse, and asked what the occasion was. Jim smiled, in a way that made me deeply uncomfortable. There was something about it that didn't look…right. ‘Have to have him looking his best,’ he replied, he has a job to do tonight.’ I felt a shudder run down my spine. I decided against asking questions, simply wished him well and hustled off. The screaming was what woke me up that night. My hotel room was on the first floor, and I could hear it through the window. I brought myself out of bed, and against my better judgement brought myself to the window. From there I saw a man racing past, and behind him, Freight Train, a cold look in his eyes and scarlet dripping from his muzzle, bearing down on him the same way he did the crow. He caught up to the man, and with the same flash of his hooves, brought the man to the ground. People sprinted past the glass, attempting to escape the stallion's fury. He picked one in the pack, a woman this time, and did to her what she'd done before. This continued for several minutes, he took down one by one. Men, women, he didn't discriminate. Blood and violence rained as the horse grabbed his victims, at one point he through his head back in a rear, squealing with what sounded like joy at the carnage. I wanted to look away, tried to look away, but I couldn't force myself. When his bloodlust was finally satisfied, he stopped at the first man I'd seen him kill. Out of the corner of the window, I watched as Jim strode to his bloodthirsty animal. The horse bowed his head, as if gesturing to his kill, and Jim nodded as he'd done the crow. I don't know how the horse managed to rip the man's shirt away, but he had pulled it away, exposing the man's pale flesh, and began to eat it. He pulled it off and chewed it, showing no indication that it was any different from the grass around his pasture I'd seen him eating not twelve hours before. It was then I realized, this horse, this thing, ate grass like any horse would. If his joyous trumpet during the slaughter was any indication, he was hunting these people for fun. For entertainment, the way men hunt deer. He didn't need flesh to survive, he was doing it because he could. After Freight Train had had his fill, Jim vaulted onto his back, and the two galloped off. I forced myself away from the window, and sunk to the floor in despair. The police came of course. Those of us that were still alive were talked to. I tried to tell them, explain to them what had happened, but they regarded me as insane, or in shock. I tried to get them to go and investigate Jim's farm, but when they did they returned they informed me the farm was abandoned, and it hadn't looked like anyone had ever lived there. I don't know what the official statement of what happened was, I left that night. Just drove off that night. I haven't spoken about it with anyone about this ordeal, I knew they wouldn't believe me. I have found I keep my distance from horses now, I can't help but look into their eyes and see nothing but that same cold look I saw in Freight Train's, watching and waiting and plotting their next move.


End file.
